


A Mad Disquietude Among the Stars

by Eosithe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: (Ish) - Freeform, And definitely some crime syndicates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cal Kestis Needs a Hug, Concepts loosely grounded in real physics, Dubiously legal activity, F/M, Force Bond, Future whomp, I'm making shit up, Past whomp, Post-Order 66 Trauma, Praise be for wookieepedia tho, Set after Fallen Order, Someone stop me with the tags, Spoilers for the ending, Still don't know the value of a credit though, Strong Female Characters, Suspension Of Disbelief, Un-Cal-achteristic swearing, Video games are so wholesome sometimes, and blood, if mixed with the Force, just roll with me here, these kids have been through a lot, watch me make just so much shit up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:47:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22702687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eosithe/pseuds/Eosithe
Summary: It was basic physics, really.  Every youngling at the Academy knew that space and time were intimately related.   The space-time continuum was the fabric of the Universe, and if he was attuned to it, his mind could go anywhere. If he could not face the past for his shame and failure, and feared for his future, why wouldn't he reach out in the other dimensions available to him?In which Cal may or may not have accidentally (definitely not on purpose) made a connection with someone else's mind when he was upset after Order 66.  Oops.  Time to go find her, and maybe get the Haxion Brood off his back?
Relationships: BD-1 & Cal Kestis, Cal Kestis & Original Character(s), Cal Kestis/Original Female Character(s), Cere Junda & Cal Kestis
Comments: 12
Kudos: 41





	1. The Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Fallen Order...what an incredible game. Wish it were like twice as long with how much I enjoyed it. And yeah, some of the cutscenes hit me real hard in the heart space. Damn, Cal Kestis really does need a hug.

_I had a dream, which was not all a dream._  
  
Excerpt from _Darkness_  
Lord Byron  
  
  


_The fingers running along his forehead were familiar. He knew their callouses, their strength. He knew the path they would take - firm circles at his temple, a rake through his hair with a light tug at the ends, finished with a scratch at a spot behind his ear that he could never manage to find on his own. The sensation was electricity, the best kind, down his neck, and his muscles released their tension._

_It was his favorite dream._

_His head was in her lap as she carded through his hair. Her laughter floated in the tranquil space as he talked of Greez's paranoia on Dathomir. He was glad to hear it, always, but especially in contrast to the way she had gripped his hair when he spoke of Taron Malicos, and pet his head when he told her of facing off with Master Tapal._

_"And you? What have you been up to?" It was a wonder he could even form words, boneless as he was. Dathomir had exhausted him, and her clever fingers were sending him off to a sleep within sleep._

_"Oh, you know me. I'm here and there, same as always." Her nails scratched a bit more insistently at that spot, and the electricity in his neck shot down his whole spine. He doubted he could move just then, not even if a wyyyschokk popped up. He'd die happy, if not a little offended that he was offed by something with so many unnecessary letters._

_"Tell me anyways," he pressed._

_Her voice lulled him deeper into relaxation, until he listened without hearing, understood without knowing, that she was somewhere far away from him, doing exciting things, dangerous things, but doing them well. Like him, he guessed. Made sense, her being his subconscious and all._

_"-wake up!" Her new words cut through his daze, and she pushed on his shoulder. That was odd, the dreams had never ended this way befoer._

_"Wake up!" It was more urgent this time, the pressure on his shoulder more insistent. But he was so comfortable, so relaxed here in a way he just_ wasn't _while awake, and he resisted._

"Wake UP, Cal!" Greez was standing over him, two hands shaking his shoulders and one flicking his cheek. The Latero was basically white, and his hair - whiskers? Cal could never tell which - shook.

"Wha?" He mumbled.

"Cal, the witch is going _crazy_! She's yelling that there's someone on the ship! Never mind that we're hurtling through hyperspace and all. Cere is trying to keep her from tearing the _Mantis_ apart!"

Cal swung himself up and hurried to the main living space. Merrin was there, hands faintly green and wild expression made all the more feral by her tattoos and dark lips. Her eyes were darting about the cabin, and Cere spoke in a voice suited for soothing a wild loth-cat.

"Merrin, think this through -"

"Wha's goin' on?" Cal interrupted. He was not awake enough for this. Those wild eyes pinned him in place though.

"On Dathomir, you told me you had just two crewmates, and that neither were Jedi." Cal nodded his affirmative, rubbing sleep from the corner of his eyes. "But first there is this - this _bogling_ creature which chews my shoes and defecates _everywhere -_ " he couldn't argue. Litterbox training was not going well. "Then there is an extra presence here, in the middle of my sleep cycle, while we are traveling in space without opportunity for someone to board!"

An extra Force presence here on the ship? Should he have felt that? He thought he had mended his connection to the Force enough, but perhaps not.

Greez, trembling still, assured them. "I assure you, there isn't anyone else on the ship!"

"Can you tell more specifically where they are?" Cal asked. He hadn't advanced far enough in his training to know what degree of precision was possible. And even so, maybe the Nightsisters of Dathomir had skills that the Jedi just _didn't_.

"It is gone now," Merrin began, and the three others just blinked, tension leaving their forms. "But they may have masked themselves! Taron Malicos-"

"Taron Malicos is encased in stone on Dathomir, just where we left him. He isn't here."

"This I know - his signature is known to me and this one was not. I mean to say it was a skill he had, and so too might others." Cal sighed, a whole body sigh that called attention to the ache in his bones. Which reminded of him of his dream, where he hadn't ached at all. A headache started to bloom between his eyes.

"I trust you, Merrin, so I don't doubt that you felt something. BD and I will check it out." BD-1 beep-booped his indignation at getting dragged into this. "Yes, BD, you'll do exactly such a thing."

**Somewhere in Space**

He wasn't sure what he expected to find, if anything at all. A Nightbrother, maybe? A Force-sensitive Partisan stowaway from Kashyyyk? Certainly no powerful Force-user - no, they would have made a move to strike them down by now. But he still didn't know what to make of Merrin's insistence that someone else was, or had been, here. His headache, in full swing now, throbbed. He rubbed his temples and raked his hair back, the familiar motion marginally easing the pain.

The familiar motion. A presence sensed while he was asleep but gone by the time he made it to the group.

He ruminated on the idea as he finished he rounds and made his way back to the kitchenette. Three pairs of eyes fixated on him. He shook his head. Merrin stood, indignant.

"But -"

"We checked everywhere," Cal cut her off. "I crawled the maintenance halls, BD ran the ventilation shafts, and other than some bogling droppings," BD-1, disposing of said droppings behind him, booped in agreement, "there's nothing."

Merrin crossed her arms and opened her mouth, but Cal raised a hand to head her off.

"I…may have an idea of what happened." He sat, and motioned for Merrin to do the same. Cere leaned forward, Greez spread his upper arms along the back of the couch. Merrin harrumphed and flopped onto the couch.

"When I sleep, sometimes I dream." He trailed off and took a breath, reluctant to share this precious, personal thing, and unsure of how to phrase it without sounding crazy.

"You dream when you sleep. Congratulations," Merrin spat. Cere gave her a look.

"What do you dream about, Cal?" _And what does it have do with another Force presence on the ship?_

"It's- it's not every night, but it's- that is," he was bumbling. Off to a great start. "She -, I'm -"

"She?" Cere interceded. Cal sighed again. A cup of caf would help. He got up to make one, not at all to disguise his sudden restlessness, and slight trembling in his hands.

"I…go to this place, in these dreams, and there's someone there. No - that's not right. She and I are there, together, which I realize doesn't sound different, but, and, we - "

"And what?" "Who is 'she'?" Cere and Merrin spoke at the same time.

"I don't know, we're just _there_. We talk, we…." he flushed, and felt the burn, and so flushed harder. He didn't want to say 'touch', didn't want to reduce the absolute boneless peace her nails on his scalp induced to such a simple term, didn't want to insinuate something that wasn't the case. "We talk. And she's...I'm not sure exactly who she is."

"But maybe she's the presence?" He shrugged.

"I never thought she was real, but I was dreaming with her when Greez woke me up."

"Dreaming _with_ her?" _Stars_ , were the _Mantis_ ' life support systems malfunctioning? It was impossibly hot, and he was sighing a lot.

"Well I don't really dream _about_ her, so…" Cere sighed in turn. Oxygen levels must be low or something. She motioned him back to the couch.

"These dreams you have with this girl, what do you do in them?"

"Like I said, we talk."

"What do you talk about?"

"I tell her what's happened in my life since the last dream." Cere looked startled, then worried. Saying it out loud, hearing his own words, Cal realized how it sounded. He couldn't bring himself to be worried though.

"Cal! You tell her where we are and what we're doing?" He closed his eyes and nodded. "Cal are you _insane_?"

"Well it's not like she's real! I'm still not convinced that's what Merrin felt. I've always thought of her as someone my mind made up to make me feel better, to cope with," he waved a hand, "everything." Cere looked pained, and sighed again. Greez, apparently regaining his constitution now that Merrin had calmed, spoke up next.

"Well, what does she look like?" He got three curious stares, and looked defensive. "What? I know what would make me feel better!"

"I don't know."

"You don't know what she looks like?"

"No, Greez, we're not like, physically together somewhere. It's like we're in the dark, or our eyes are closed, but not. She's just a, a _presence_." Greez gave him a look.

Cere cut in again. "You said you talk - does she say things to you too?"

"Yeah, of course. She tells me the same kinds of things. What she's up to, things like that."

Cere gave him a look, and he shrugged back at her. She prodded.

"So where is she? What does she do? What's her name?"

"I don't know her name. She's….far from here. She works on star ships. I think."

"You think? She doesn't say?"

"She does, I just…"

"You don't listen? Or you don't remember?" Cal shrugged again. Greez cut in once more.

"You don't think it's weird that you dream about - excuse me, _with_ \- someone who's face you've never seen, who's name you don't know, and you can't remember what they tell you when you 'talk'? And you decide to trust this person with information about _us_ \- who you are, who _we_ are, what we do, where we go? That seems okay to you? Not the least bit suspicious?"

"Greez! Not helping!" Cere admonished.

"The short 4-armed man has a point," Merrin countered. Greez nodded emphatically.

"Once again, she's not real," Cal emphasized. "Things in dreams are weird and you just - you just accept them cause it's a _dream_ and it doesn't feel weird until you explain it while you're awake. It all makes sense while I'm there and I just know the things - the people, places - that she's talking about like I've known them for years but now, sitting here with you guys, I couldn't give you a single detail. It never bothered me to not see her face because it never occurred to me that I _should_ be bothered by not seeing it. It never occurred to me to not tell her things because I've been telling her things for _years_ and nothing's happened because _she's not real_."

Merrin was nodding, apparently on his side again. "Dreams are often this way, yes. But dreams are more than just the idle conjecture of our sleeping minds. Have you never felt the presence of this person?"

"Not in the way I can feel you, or Taron, or the Inquisitors."

Cere was shaking her head.

"Hold on, stop. Let's back up here. You've been dreaming of the same woman for _years_ and you've always thought she was…what? Some kind of defense mechanism? When did the dreams start?"

"Just after Order 66."

"And she makes you feel better just by being there with you? Talking? Do you do anything else?" Cal felt his face burn again. Damn his fair skin. Cere hazarded a guess. "Are you…intimate?"

_Yes_.

"No." This was absolutely not a conversation he wanted to have. "Sometimes I've got my head in her lap and she," he mimicked combing through his hair, "or maybe she'll be just leaning up against me." Sometimes, he massages out the knot that always forms just left of her spine, between her shoulder blades, but he keeps that to himself. Doesn't mention the almost indecent noise she makes when he's worked it out. He certainly doesn't share the rare times he finds himself wrapped up in her arms, or her laid out fully against him. Doesn't tell them that sometimes they don't talk at all, the world narrowed to the points of contact between them and they just _are_ , just _exist_ , together. No, his crew certainly doesn't need to hear about that.

Nor does he need questions about why he remembers _these_ parts of the dreams, but none of the spoken details.

"So years of dreams with the same woman, where you comfort each other, starting just after Order 66. You know her name, but yet you don't. You know who she is not where she is or what she does. She talks but you can't remember. And you've never noticed her Force presence."

He nodded. "I've never felt her as a Force presence. I've sensed _her_ , but I only feel peace in the Force."

BD-1 jumped on his shoulder, beeping his support. Merrin sat back and Greez grumbled, grumpy thing that he was. Cere, former Jedi Knight and now one-woman Jedi Council, looked thoughtful, and sat quiet. It was some time before she spoke again.

"Your psychometry, Cal, allows you to reach back across time in places or with objects of high Force signature, places that are associated with strong emotion."

"I was always taught I was picking up on a residue left from the past, not reaching back into it."

"If it were just a residue, Force users without psychometry should be able to tell that an object _has_ an Echo, even if they can't access it. That's just not the case. You have a special attunement with the fabric of time.

"You've never felt her Force presence, but maybe the entire dream, that peace, is your combined Force presence. What if, after Order 66, when you were alone and in pain, your mind reached out the other way to try to make a similar connection?"

Greez snorted. "What, like, into the future? And the kid doesn't know who she is cause she's in the future?"

Cal sat up straight, then slumped back. He felt like an idiot for not considering it earlier. What if he _had_ reached out in another way, looking for something to stave away the loneliness and ease the pain?

"Not forward into the future, Greez. Sideways, outwards, into the galaxy around us."

It was basic physics, really. Every youngling at the Academy knew that space and time were intimately related, two facets of the same die. Time was linear, only forwards and back, but space? Space went out in multiple direction. If he could not face the past for his shame and failure, and feared for his future, why _wouldn't_ he reach out in the other dimensions available to him? The space-time continuum was the fabric of the Universe, and if he was attuned to it through his psychometry, his mind theoretically could go anywhere.

"Cere…are you saying I have a Force bond?"

"Or something very similar, yes."

**Corellian Sector, Nar Shaddaa**

Quynha woke up to the glow of neon signs outside her window. She hated Nar Shaddaa, shithole that it was, but she could always find work here: smugglers looking to break blockades, transports needing an extra gunner. Her apartment was cheap, and though she didn't trust anyone on this damned moon past the moment credits exchanged hands, she trusted that she had enough of a reputation to be left alone. Aptitude with a blaster and affinity for a vibroblade labeled you as more trouble than you were worth, and that went a long way in the Corellian Sector.

She was feeling agitated though. A sought-after skillset kept her busy and content, if not happy, for the past few years. Within the last month, however, her thoughts had turned towards the future and that - _that_ \- made her restless. At least she had options - none that she particularly liked, but she'd take it over having her back to the wall.

And her dreams had left her unsettled as of late. Her dream friend - companion - man - _kriff_ there was no way to describe him without sounding absolutely insane, was there? He, who had been an excellent companion over the years, was acting strange. Normally content to talk and to listen, he had been sullen recently, and her relaxing dreams were filled with tense silence.

Last night was downright disquieting.

_"Are you real?" He had asked. His head was in her lap again; she had hoped that they were returning to their normal routine. She had been tracing his features, running her fingertips over the bridge of his nose, along the scar that dimpled the skin there. Across the generous expanse of his lips. Hoping he would be less moody than their previous few encounters._

_No such luck._

_"What kind of question is that?" She asked. But, really, what kind of question_ was _that? Her subconscious getting metaphysical when contemplating what she wanted to do with her life? What in the stars was going on? Was she real? Was any of this real? Maker only knew._

_"Just - are you? Real?"_

_She grasped his hand and pulled it up, pressing it to her cheek. She'd give him what he needed, if only to give herself the assurance._

_"Of course I am."_

Of course I am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quynha is pronounced 'Quinna' and is (obviously) my attempt at Star-Wars-izing the beautiful Vietnamese name Quynh.


	2. The Favor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for the ending of Fallen Order ahead.
> 
> Qu is pronounced "Q" but this is Star Wars so we get creative with it.

_The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars  
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,  
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth  
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;_  
  
Excerpt from _Darkness_  
Lord Byron  
  
  


_Falling._

_She was falling, stomach seemingly lodged somewhere between her eyes which didn't help with trying to plan how to get out of this one alive but -_

_Familiar hands grasped hers, interlacing their fingers. She was resting against his back now, check pressed against his neck as her chin hooked over his shoulder._

_"I've got you," he said, spreading their arms to control the drop. "We'll get through this."_

She woke up.

**  
Somewhere in Space**

The holocron was destroyed, the fate of those Younglings left to the Force. His hope as well, if he was being honest. This mission, this determination to get the holocron had been his driving motivation for the past few months and he felt a bit adrift without it.

But the Empire was still strong, despite the blow Cere and he had dealt to the Fortress Inquisitorius on Nur. And another matter still persisted -

Well, two matters.

Cal had had more dreams, and Merrin had continued to sense the mysterious presence.

"We can't ignore the possibility that Cal's dream girl is real, and that she may be working for the Empire - "

They had argued the point until Cal gave in, and then they argued some more over what to do about it.

Trust in the Force, Master Tapal said. Well the Force wasn't really giving him any indication here one way or the other, and he had no clue how to go about trying to search for her. Cere suggested looking at a holomap and picking a sector that caught his attention, but that had only resulted in them getting chased by a Haxion Brood bounty ship.

Which brought them to the second matter.

Sorc Tormo would be admirably persistent if fighting his bounty hunters wasn't so damn annoying. While not necessarily difficult to defeat, they had a habit of being in the most inconvenient places at the most inconvenient times, like when he needed to get back to the Mantis quickly or when he was in the middle of a bazaar trying to buy new socks.

Enough was enough.

"Greez," he said. The Lateron turned around hesitantly. "Greez, we have to do something about the Brood. At some point they'll realize they can sell us out to the Empire for a lot more than the bounty on us."

"I…I know. And I've been thinking…you collected all these seeds for me, and I got approval to show them in the Galactic Botanists competition-"

"You want to pay off your bounty to a crime syndicate by winning at a plant show?" Merrin had joined them.

"It's in Cloud City - " Trusting her didn't make Greez less nervous around Merrin.

"You want to pay off your bounty to the Haxion Brood by winning at a plant show in a casino on the other side of the galaxy when every Imperial ship is on high alert for us?" Cal countered

"Well it sounds stupid when you say it like _that_ …"

Merrin stared at him for a tense moment. "…How does it sound when _you_ say it?" She asked.

"…Better," Greez said. Cal sighed.

"Do you have any other ideas?" He asked.

"None," Cere joined the conversation, "that aren't likely to get us into more trouble." She looked at the terrarium by the galley. "The Dathomiri plants are rather unique and may be enough to win. It's worth a try, I think." Greez perked up with the validation. "That just leaves getting to Bespin."

It sounded simple - just get to Bespin. The hyperlane routes they could travel were heavily patrolled at the intersections, and being away from Bracca for the past months had dropped him out of the loop on Imperial movements. And to go to Bespin without calling the Brood down on them the instant they landed…they needed help.

"I..." he ventured. "I have a friend on Nar Shaddaa who owes me a favor…"

**  
Somewhere Else in Space**

The Morseerian on the other end of the holocomm wasn't taking the hint. So she made it blunt for him.

"No."

"But Qu - " the methane mask hid most of his face, but the shockingly expressive black eyes were imploring, blue and fragmented though they were. "He's - "

"He's someone I don't know. And I don't want to hear about how great a kid he his, Tabbers, how hard a worker, how honest because, _honestly_ , the last time you gave me a referral, it blew up in my face. Literally. I didn't have eyebrows for a month."

If she wasn't confident he would harass her with comm calls, she'd shut the connection down. She'd been feeling off for the past few weeks and didn't want the stress of working with new, untested clients.

"And I said I was sorry about that. Look, Qu, it's not a referral. I owe him a favor." A more pathetic face didn't exist, she was sure.

"And I'm suddenly your magical favor-fulfilling fairy? No. A 'favor' sounds like an even worse deal for me. So, double no."

The alien paused thoughtfully. Quynha looked at him after a minute, expectant.

"You owe _me_ a favor, Qu." That took her aback.

"Do I?" She hedged. Head tilted, she looked incredulously at him and willed him to forget.

"Yeah. That time on Corellia -"

"I got you a _job_ for what you did on Corellia," she shot back, hoping to throw him off the scent.

"You _recommended_ me for a job because I'm excellent at what I do," Tabbers countered, and she hated him for it. But this was her own fault - she had turned the humble former scrapper into an engineer-mechanic too confident for his own good. "Just - just meet him. And give him a fair chance. I'll never bring up Corellia again, on my honor."

"Bah," she scoffed. "A plague on your honor!" But not really. Tabbers was one of the rare good ones on Nar Shaddaa. She'd be grumpy and express her displeasure with him, but as long as he continued to do right by her, she'd deal straight with him.

"Qu." Those black eyes were determined now.

She sighed. "…You're sure that _this_ is what you want to cash that favor in on?" She'd rather he chose something more palatable. Like basically anything other than someone new.

"Yes."

"Fine. But we do this on my terms. Canto Bight - the Vesustrian, three rotations from now. I'll find him."

"I'll let him know. Qu - thank you."

She was grumbling even as the comm cut out.

**  
Cantonica**

Quynha had been watching the group since they entered the Vesustrian. She wasn't pleased that Tabbers' contact had come with extra people, but she supposed it was on her that she hadn't specified that he should come alone.

Ginger male, scar below his right ear as Tabbers described, an older, lean woman with close-cropped hair and a Lateron. They all looked out of place, in well-worn clothes and distinctly uncomfortable stances. They'd been sitting at a table for about two hours and by her best estimates, were about to jump out of their skins. The Lateron switched his focus between the hyper-chromed machines on the casino floor and the fathier races on the racetrack beyond the large transparisteel windows. He'd start twitching his hand towards the end of a race, muttering what she could only guess were encouragements under his breath.

The two humans were calmer, though no less vigilant. They spoke to each other every so often, but didn't seem to be making contact with anyone else. The guy flagged a waiter droid to place another order, and Quynha made her move when it returned with the drink.

She had her vaguely pleasant smile on her face as she casually took a seat at their table. The humans stiffened at her approach, which pulled the attention of the Lateron back. He jumped when he saw her, whiskers sticking up.

She leaned forward to peer into the glass on the table. "Act more natural," she ordered softly "You all stick out like sore thumbs." Her eyes flicked to the alien, whose eyes widened further, "Go back to watching the races."

She leaned back and studied the trio again. "You," she nodded at the ginger, "have a very good friend," she opened. He nodded back. "I've heard that you may need some help."

"And we hear that you're the best around," the woman spoke. Quynha smirked.

"I'm the best, period. You understand what I do?" Another nod. Her smile bloomed in full again. "Good. So, tell me, where are we going?" The humans relaxed at that. Shifting in their seats, they looked at each other and nodded.

"Bespin." The woman was apparently going to be the group spokeswoman.

"And when do we leave?"

"We need to be there in 5 standard rotations. Can you do it?"

"Depends. What are you flying?"

"S-161 XL." Quynha pursed her lips, thought.

"A Stinger. Good ship - 5 rotations is doable. It'll be 15,000 credits, at least." The woman nodded, though the ginger seemed taken aback. "This _meeting_ is your favor," she leaned in to explain. "I'm not otherwise taking new clients right now." His face twisted into a sour displeasure tinged with acceptance.

"Now, why Bespin?"

"…We were hoping for no questions."

She looked them over, this ragtag group, clothes worn in a manner that suggested hard work, boots clearly mended a few times over, and shook her head.

"You can't afford 'no questions'."

The woman leaned in, maintaining eye contact. "We want no questions," she said, waving her hand in the space between them. Quynha was weirded out, but leant in further.

"You can't afford 'no questions'," she repeated, mimicking the hand motion. She leaned back. "But I'll bite. Each question you don't want answered comes with an uptick in price."

"You said 15,000 credits?" The ginger whispered harshly.

"I said 15,000 _at least_ , and that was before we were playing this game," she countered. "You're asking _me_ to get you to the other side of the galaxy. Something's preventing you from just going corewards and out the other side on your own, so either you're on someone's radar or you're smuggling something you _really_ don't want the Empire to find or both. I can't take you by Hutt Space on a luxury yacht with two forward mounted laser turrets, which leaves stealth along the coreward trade routes or the long way around through Wild Space, both of which require careful planning.

"I have a reputation to maintain, and on the assumption that you're paying me to keep you both alive _and_ uncaught, I'll need more information, or it'll cost you more. 'No questions' means accounting for all contingencies and I don't do that for less than a million. But prove me wrong. 'No questions' for one million, half up front, and we'll call it a deal."

They couldn't afford it. Not if they sold everything they had, and cashed in on whatever bounties they had on their heads, could they afford that. The woman shook her head, as expected. Quynha nodded, and resisted the childish urge to rub it in. She held eye contact with the man.

"Let's try again. Why Bespin?"

The woman in front of her heaved a sigh. "The Galactic Botanists competition." Quynha could honestly say she did not expect that.

"And what are we doing at the Galactic Botanists competition?"

"Trying to win," the Latero interjected under his breath. She chuckled.

"So what's your cargo?"

All three shook their head. "No cargo."

"Wh - you're paying me a large sum of credits to get you to a plant show without cargo - you know what, never mind, your credits, your choice. Bounties?"

"How much?"

"Fifty thousand extra if you won't tell me who's after you." The woman's eyes went wide, and she saw the look of shock on her companions' faces. "My job is much easier and this trip is much faster if I know who I'm avoiding."

"The Haxion Brood -" Quynha cut her off with a scoff.

"And you're going to _Bespin_?"

"Which is part of why we hired you. And the Empire is looking for us."

Of course.

"I could guess as much. How much is the Brood bounty for?"

"Not sure, but there's been a steady stream of hunters."

"Sorc Tormo is a tenacious bastard," she scowled. "I can land you on Bespin without them knowing, but can't control them finding you once you're there." The group nodded. "Is the Empire actively looking for you?"

"…Most likely, yes," the woman said.

Not what she wanted to hear. Her stomach lurched upwards, her heart pounded. She closed her eyes and seriously considered just walking away. She had heard them out, as she promised Tabbers. She hadn't thrown out an absurdly high price, though the Brood was among the least reasonable of the lesser crime syndicates.

"Please." She felt the hand on her forearm more than she heard his whisper. She met his green eyes before hers darted over the rest of his face. He tickled at something in her mind, but she was sure she'd never seen him before - she'd remember a face like this. That hair, those scars, those lips. Unbidden, she wondered if they were as soft as they looked. She held eye contact with him and decided to follow her gut.

"Any of the bounties out on you?"

"How much?" The woman quickly countered. Quynh looked at her, gave her a soft quirk of the mouth and a shake of the head.

"No charge - you just told me." She stood from the table and looked at the group again. "Thirty-five thousand. I have some work to do if we're leaving tomorrow, so let's finish up. Terms of the agreement: either party can call this off at any time before takeoff. I inspect the ship before we leave - pardon me if I don't believe it when clients tell me 'no cargo'. The only deal breaker for me is slaves, though I don't think that's your game.

"I take 50% up front, 75% of an adjusted price if you've lied to me in any way. The rest is due within 3 standard rotations of a completed job. If you leave Bespin before we settle…hope the Brood gets to you first." Quynh took joy in the growing look of alarm on the Latero's face. The two humans just hardened their features though.

"We were planning to get the money on Bespin…surely we can come to some sort of agreement?" The Latero said.

She pondered it for half a second, but this favor and her generosity extended as far as shuttling an Empire fugitive across the galaxy.

"No. You have the Brood on your tail - I don't trust you're that good at gambling. Half tomorrow."

"We just don't have those credits right now," the redhead pled. Qu fixed him with another stare, internally enjoying having a reason to do so.

"You have a night in Canto Bight. And if that doesn't work out, you have a ship, don't you?"

"What, like, sell it?"

"Sure. To me. I'll give you a good price for it."

They looked unhappy but resigned. She nodded and started to walk away.

"Wait!" The ginger was rising from his chair. "What's your name?"

"Quynha," she smirked. "Quynha Chail."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annndddd we're off.
> 
> Sorry for the delay! Quarantine happened and I went to my parents' house, which had no means of finishing the game.
> 
> Qu is pronounced "Q" but this is Star Wars so we get creative with it.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you for sticking with me! I assure you, I ride the train of this story just as much as you do. I am not the conductor here. We are on this curiosity voyage together.
> 
> I always appreciate constructive criticism - if I've mis-spelled something, or gotten a factoid wrong, PLEASE let me know. My Star Wars knowledge is not infinite, and while I try my best to do good research and keep things Canon(/Legends?), I don't always succeed. 
> 
> The beauty of publishing online is that works are not sent in stone. So if you don't like the way I've written something, or if a character seems off, also please let me know (cookies to those who give me tips on how to make it better)! I'm curious to hear your thoughts, as I only improve through feedback.


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